


How To Tell A Hobbit's Future In Five Minutes Or Less: A Study In Runes

by Arken_Stone1



Series: How To Make A Hobbit Do Things In Five Minutes Or Less [6]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Always a girl-Bilbo, F/M, Gen, Rule 63, fem!Bilbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 02:29:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1287898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arken_Stone1/pseuds/Arken_Stone1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bella Baggins finds it most untoward that her smial has been invaded by ill-mannered louts who've cleaned out her pantry and have tracked mud on her favorite carpet.  Yet, she is swept up in an evening promising changes in her life of epic proportions due to a bit of Dwarvin Magic and a good song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To Tell A Hobbit's Future In Five Minutes Or Less: A Study In Runes

Disclaimer: All the characters appearing in The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings are copyrighted by Warner Brothers and the J.R.R. Tolkien estate. No infringement of these copyrights intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holder. I write this fanfiction only for love of the The Hobbit and not for profit 

 

Bella Baggins needed a day a good night's rest after involuntarily opening her smial to wandering band of Dwarves. After a long day of dealing with Lobelia and her toxic gossip and thirteen raunchy Dwarves, some quiet respite with a goblet of red wine and her favorite pipe sounded like the the perfect cure for all of her ails. What bothered her more than the mess her uninvited guests made was their leader in particular: a handsome Dwarvin prince too busy being majestic and not being a good guest. With raven hair and sapphire eyes, broad shoulders and strong hands, he made Bella's inner Took's knickers twist in the most delightful of ways.

Belladonna Baggins, she mentally chided herself. She felt her nether regions become an ocean as her thoughts turned to Thorin Oakenshield. Get a-hold of yourself! Such thoughts have no place in your mind this moment.

She couldn't deny that it was, at best, a delightfully raunchy fantasy to think of ravishing the Dwarvin Prince. However, it pointed to a more poignant realization followed by a hollow ache in her heart knowing that she didn't dare dwell a millisecond upon her most secret and fondest dream: she wanted to know love, marriage and romance instead of pouring all of her energies into only making maps and repairing books. Why couldn't she have both? Who said she could only have one and not the other?

"Such is this Hobbit's life," she muttered in frustration when she hung the damp dishtowel on the rack to dry. She made her way to her welcoming bed to let the reverie of dreams wipe away the chaos and frustration of the day. Instead of comfortable pillows and a fluffy comforter surrounding her in her bed, she wished it were Thorin's strong hands kneading her sore muscles and his strong body working out her kinks. “Oh, well.”

Oh, bother! Bella cursed as she tossed and turned in her bed after several minutes while she listened to the raucousing Dwaves have a grand old time in her parlor. I'm never going to get any sleep at this rate. 

When in Erebor, do as the Ereborites do, she mused as she put back on her day garments so that she might join the others. Perhaps, there was some entertainment to be found in the songs and tales of loud, obnoxious Dwarves. She made her way from her bed to the from the dining room, watching Oin, through small stones on her great-grandmother's table. Bella cringed at the thought of what the rough pebbles were doing to the flawless antique oaken finish.

She drew up a chair and sat by one of the friendlier Dwarves whose name she thought was Bofur. He was a kind-hearted sort with a twinkle in his eye and a quirky sense of humor that made Bella smile. She saw him bring a finger to his lips before he pointed to Oin and Fili sitting at the other end of the table. She watched with growing curiosity as Oin rubbed his beard in contemplation as he studied the small gray stones scattered in front of him on the table. He tugged at one of his braids as he spoke in hushed tones to Fili while the other Dwarves sat around the table, seemingly enthralled by this strange activity.

“What is going on?” Bella whispered.

He put a hand over his mouth before leaning sideways to speak softly in her ear. “You're getting to witness a real treat. Not many outsiders get to see this.”

“What is happening?” Bella pressed. “I don't understand. Please elaborate, Bofur.”  
“It is an ancient tradition that before Dwarves embrace or undertake any quest or journey to have a Sakhzigir foretell of your fortune.”

“A Sack-zigger?” Bella said the word slowly, a mash of meaningless syllables that had no meaning to her.

“Ah,” Bofur brought his palm to his forehead. “You don't speak Khuzdul. Shh, but it means Seer or Fortune-teller in our tongue. Shh, don't tell anyone and maybe you'll get your fortune told.”

“I don't need my fortune told,” she retorted. What nonsense! However, Bofur seemed to put great stock in the ritual and who was she to belittle the practices of others? “But, thank you.”

Gandalf leaned forward between them. “Bella, isn't that the Hobbit calling the Dwarf small? f You might try it before you decide it's nonsense.” Gandalf puffed on his pipe for a moment before he pointed the thin slender mouthpiece toward the elder Dwarf with the wild, wiry gray hair. “Come, Mistress Baggins, I think it's time you learned of your future!”

“A bit not good, Gandalf!” Bella scolded him as Oin gathered the stones back to him and placed them in the small leather pouch.

“Who's next?” Oin grinned.

“Mistress Baggins would like to have her fortune told, Oin.” Gandalf used his pipe to point down to the slender Hobbit. “I thinks she needs a good dose of it.”

“No, no, no, I don't!” Bella insisted angrily, resisting the urge to stomp her foot.

“Oh, come on, Bella,” Bofur gently pushed her forward, pulling out the chair for her and patting the seat for her to sit. “Do give it a try. You'll find out great things that you never expected.”

“I already did that when thirteen Dwarves showed up on my porch step tonight and ate me out of smial and hobbit-hole?” She drawled. “If that is what my future holds, then I'm hardly in need of any more surprises, Master Bofur.”

A boisterous laughter filled the room as Gloin, a frizzy ginger Dwarf with a thick beard elbowed Thorin in the ribs. “Sharp tongue that lass has!”

“Indeed,” Thorin said nothing more, but leaned back in his chair with arms crossed. One black braid from his temple hung down long enough to reach his hand and he absentmindedly played with the silver bead at the end of it. “Razor words and fire in her eyes. It's enough to drive a Dwarf to drink more. Another ale!”

She glowered at the Dwarvin Prince who found his entertainment at her expense. A loud sniff escaped her, but she shook her head to dismiss it. She felt a strong, warm hand resting on her shoulder and found Bofur attached to it. “He can be obstinate of times, but he is a good Dwarf. He means no harm, Mistress Baggins.”

“They can both burn in Mount Doom for all I care,” she scoffed. Bofur gave her a helpless shrug. “But, you, Sir, have a good heart.”

“Thank you, Milady,” he said cheerfully, removing his hat as he bow nodded to her. “Now, Mistress Baggins, I think you'd have a great time if you allowed Oin to cast the Runes for you. Won't you try it just once, please?”

"Hmm," It certainly beat not getting any sleep while the Dwarves were having fun. Perhaps, approaching the unexpected chaos in her home with good cheer rather than grumbling was what was needed most to get through the visit. “All right, Bofur, you've talked me into it. Why not?”

The throng of Dwarves cheered as she took her place across from Oin. He removed his ear trumpet from his ear to drown the out the loud laughter of the gathering. He patted the bag of runes and place them gently in Bella's hands. “All right, lassie, give them a good shake and think about what you want to know in the next half-year. When you're ready, draw one out at time and lay it on the table.”

“How many?” she asked.

“As many as it feels right,” he answered.

Bella took the worn soft leather pouch in her hands and shook it gently. She didn't know what to ask about or what might happen, but she stopped shaking the runes when deep blue eyes met hers. She studied Thorin's face as his eyes were twin blue flames, warming her soul with his amused glance and branding her soul as she saw what lie smoldering beneath his aloof demeanor. He was more than King Under The Mountain; he was the burning forge within it.

A sudden chill drifted across her skin while a flushed heat rushed through her body. She felt her breath catch in her bosom and a lump formed in her through that she tried to swallow. She barely recalled how the entire bag of runes dropped from her hands, its contents spilling out onto the table. The room suddenly became quiet as it seemed only Bella and Thorin remained in it. The bead that he rolled so absently between his thumb and index finger seemingly became hot to his touch because he let out a curse in a language she didn't understand and he drew back his hand as if burnt. She watched Thorin stare intently at her for a moment, then down at his hand, then back at her. Slowly, he pulled the edge of his sleeve away from his wrist, gawking at it with wide eyes before he let his gaze travel back to Bella.

Bella watched the small, polished gray stones scatter about the table top and the silence lingered as she watched each skipping stone come to a stop in an odd pattern. She heard Thorin's voice break the quiet when he murmured, “Men Kala.”

In a very Hobbitish gesture, Bella quirked her head to the side, trying to make sense of the surrealistic ambiance hanging in the room. Everything seemed to have slowed to a tenth of its natural speed and everything appeared at odd angles, just slightly out of focus. Then, she felt a searing pain on the skin of her inner wrist just beneath her left palm as if a thousand needles had plunged into her skin. Her gaze left Thorin's to see black ornate wisps of vapor dancing along her skin, swirling and twisting like ribbons just inches about her inner wrist before finally settling upon her skin. She watched the black ribbons of smoke writhe until they settled onto her flesh and become still. Looking down, she saw two small lines of script along the expense of her wrist. One was much like the runes that she saw carved into the casting stones on the table while the line beneath it read in very ornate, flowing script. She felt her jaw drop a few inches as she read it and recognized the name.

 

Thorin Oakenshield.

 

“Oh. Valor, no!” Bella gasped.

Without another word, Oin lit incense before taking her hands in his. "We ask the four directions to come to this ritual and bless it with their protection and white light. Let no evil enter this room. Lass, this is your Sakh, your vision. Don't be afraid of what you may see, for it hasn't yet come to pass. What you are about to see is what may be your one, truest and best course, but that is for you, and not Fate, to decide.”

Bella didn't know what to think about, yet, but Thorin's image kept flooding her mind along with the vision of his name branded upon her left inner wrist. What in Valor was going on?

Oin's thick fingers picked up the first rune. 

Bella hesitated, keeping her eyes fixed only upon the rune in front of her. She had no desire to have her fascination for a particular Dwarvin Prince to become common knowledge amongst his traveling companions. Bella found it mortifying that several thought her as a passing form of amusement for their regard. She wanted to ignore the hurt she felt when the King Under The Mountain found her presence of no consequence or no contribution to the Company. His aloof detachment puzzled her while her response to him twisted her in knots. How could someone who looked upon her with such indifference affect her so profoundly after so short of time. I must be a glutton for punishment or in very much need of a good shag. 

"Let us see what we have here, shall we?" Oin's prompt pulled Bella from her silent reverie.

"Hmm,” Oin's bushy gray browse rose an inch as if astonished by the next rune which he tapped with a stubby finger. "This first rune represents the past for you, Bella.”

"What is it? What does that mean?" Bella asked carefully.

"Well, my dear, this is an interesting rune," Oin smiled slyly. "It is Ophila. This rune represents home, hearth, tradition and legacy: all of the things you value most, Mistress Baggins. This rune is you."

"Oh," Bella said, not sure what to make of the rune in front of her that reminded something of a fish.

“This means that since it is of the past, that your home and hearth lay behind you and that you're about to embark upon a journey, a great adventure.”

“I am?” Bella asked.

“You are,” Oin grinned. He pointed to the rune next to it. “This is Ihwaz, which means loneliness and transformation. You haven't been happy for a very long time, Mistress Baggins, and only barely content. If I didn't know better, I'd even say bored. You've been empty and have needing a change for quite some time.”

"There's something to be said for that," Bella grudgingly admitted. “No comment.”

Oin chuckled knowingly. “Is this such nonsense now, Madam?”

“I can neither confirm or deny that statement,” Bella felt the heat rush to her cheeks.

“Very good then,” he continued. “Moving on. Let me ask you, Bella, if I may be so bold?”

“You may,” Bella said slowly, surprised by Oin's change in demeanor.  
“What have you been denying yourself?” he asked.

“N-n-nothing at all,” she lifted her chin slightly in defiance. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dwalin elbow Thorin in the ribs.

“I know what she hasn't had in a while,” he quipped, wriggling his brows at Thorin in a lewd manner. “Little Miss needs sha-”

“Enough,” Thorin's voice contained quiet thunder, abruptly cutting off the drunken Dwarf. “You'd not be so quick to jest about another Dwarf's Sakh. Give Mistress Baggins the same courtesy and show honor for our traditions.”

“Sorry, Thorin.” Dwalin muttered, shuffling his feet and casting his eyes downward like a scolded child. “No offense.”

"Let us look at the next rune, Bella," Oin nodded to the runes on the table, picking up the next one closest to Ihwaz. Bella leaned forward, studying its shape and thinking it reminded of a small pennant fluttering on a pole. “This is Wunjo, the love rune.”

A collective gasp of “ooooooohhh” from the Dwarves made Bella's cheeks heat and she imagined they appeared scarlet. She imagined herself back in Tween-school being teased for her unrequited crush one of the Gamshee boys. She shook her head and rose from the chair, “Thank you, Oin, but I really don't need to be a source of your company's amusement.”

“Silence,” Thorin bellowed, abruptly cutting through the loud laughter of the other Dwarves. “Show some respect. My apologies, Mistress Baggins, for the ill manners of my companions and kin. It will not happen again,” he stared at each dwarf in turn with a cold fire that warned of wrath if any defied his edict. “Pray, continue with your Sakh.”

“I think th-that I've had q-quite enough,” she answered, trying to ignore the racing of her pulse. She felt a strong hand gently stop clasp hers as Thorin's thumb brushed over the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. 

“It's bad luck to not complete a Sakh, Mistress Baggins,” Thorin quietly replied as his thumb pressed gently to the spot where the black script marked her skin. “You've had a vision, haven't you?”

Couldn't he see his name written on her inner wrist? She looked down and saw the writing plain as the leaves on the trees, yet, if Thorin did he made no mention of it. He leaned forward so that his mouth was only a breath away from her ear. “Have you?”

“As have I, Little Hobbit,” he murmured so only that she heard him. His warm breath tickled her earlobe and the gentle pressure of his thumb upon her pulse point caused her body to shiver. “Finish your Sakh. You must.” 

The urgency in his voice was strong and commanding. Bella found herself mutely returning to the chair next to Oin. “Please continue.”

She turned to look at Thorin who nodded in satisfaction and returned to his seat while the other Dwarves comported themselves in a much quieter fashion.

“Wunjo represents true love, Bella. It is harmony, bonding, home and kin. You long for these things because you've not had them in a long time. This rune says that great love is in your life and trying to reach your spirit, but, you won't let it touch your heart."

"There is some truth to that," Bella felt as though she were on trial. "There is someone that has caught my eye, but, it would be impossible for us. I barely know that person." She chose her words carefully.

"Wunjo says otherwise. Open your heart to receive the fierce generosity of this love, Bella Baggins. It is coming like the mountain wind and nothing that defies it will stand in its wake.” Oin's cryptic statement puzzled Bella, but she said nothing.

“Right,” she muttered. “Okay.”

Oin tapped the run at the far end of the table toward the center so that it joined the others in sequence. Bella thought it rather plain, simply looking like an 'X.” “This rune is Gebo. When it is with Wunjo, it means that a great union of body, mind and soul. It is passion unlike any you've ever felt. The mountains will tremble and the skies will burn when you meet your One.”

“My One?”

“Your soul mate, the one who completes you,” Oin said matter-of-factly. “What I am seeing from the runes, my dear, indicates that you will meet your One very, very soon if you haven't already. Have you met some nice Hobbit that makes your heart flip in your chest when you see him?”

“No, not really.” Bella hedged.

“You will know him when you see him,” Oin patted her hand in reassurance, as if to comfort her. “When a Dwarf meets his one, it is as if the sun and the moon collide and the Valar themselves stop breathing for a moment to gaze upon such an occasion. When a Dwarven Lass or lad finds the other half of a his or her heart, they only know that love once and will do everything within their power to unite with their other half. They've waited for such love since before they were born.”

“They have no choice in the matter?” Bella asked warily.

“Of course, lass, they all have a choice in the matter,” Oin corrected her gently. “Dwarvin souls choose one another before birth as we all knew one another in the halls of Mahal. Yet, in this life, the body blurs the memory and hides the soul. Sometimes, our obsession with Craft and treasure blinds us to considering the One each of us has chosen or who has chosen us in turn. Do not make that mistake, Bella, or your heart will pine for the rest of your days.”

“It sounds. . .” Bella searched for the right words. “Painful.”

“No, lass,” Oin spoke quietly. “Joyous.”

“Can you tell me what this means?” Bella held out her arm for him to examine. “This writing on the inside of my wrist?”

“What writing, lass?” Oin asked, turning her wrist over in the light. “There's nothing there.”

“Never mind,” she stammered, quickly pulling her wrist away as if burnt. “It was a silly notion.”

“Just because I can't see it, Bella, doesn't mean it's there,” he patted her hand. He looked to the runes. “I know how a Hobbit's one true love's name appear on the wrist and you can see yours, can't you?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Oh. Valar. Yes.”

“Then seek him out and he will come to you, perhaps in your dreams,” Oin told her. “That is how we come to Our One, when we sleep, we dream of them and when we meet, the dreams are portents of what may be if we heed their welcome.”

Oin tapped the final run which resembled a bent nail. “Your final rune, Bella, is Laguz, representing the future, a journey and water. It is telling you that no venture is without risk and nothing is written in stone. But, if you are brave and accept the challenge of seeking out your One, you will gain something worth more than all of the gold in Erebor.”

“You mean there are no guarantees that is mutual,” Bella sighed.

“It means that the ending is unknown,” Oin said. “You'll never know unless you act.”

“I see,” she sighed.

“Bella,” Oin leaned forward, moving his ear trumpet toward her so that he could better hear her. “How does the name appear to you on your wrists?”

“There are two lines,” she whispered softly in hopes none of the others hearing her as they quietly conversed amongst themselves. “One is in formal script, but clearly reads as a name I recognize. But, the line above it is in runes.”

“Runes?” Oin exclaimed loudly, causing thirteen pairs of eyes to turn in his direction.

“Yes,” she hissed, embarrassed that she had even considered letting herself being talked into have her fortune told. “Oh, let's just stop this now.”

“No, finish it,” Thorin interjected. “You need privacy to finish this. All others, to me and we shall talk of our plans for the morrow.”

He rose from the table and headed for the parlor, motioning for the other dwarves to follow him which they did without a second thought. She saw Thorin look through the throng of Dwarves to her, then nod to Orin. Without another word, he left the room.

“All right, lass, let's finish this up,” Oin patted her on the back. He waited until they were alone. “Is it a Dwarf's name that appears on your wrist?”

“Yes, I'm sure that the runes are the same as the script.”

“And he is in this company?”

“Yes, he is.” Bella confirmed.

“And when did these runes appear on your wrist, Lass?”

“Tonight, shortly before you started my Sakh.”

She watched in true fascination as Oin pointed to the final rune. “Your last rune is Raidho which is symbolic of a journey in life. Bella, even a fool can see that your destiny compels you to come on this quest reclaim Erebor. You are meant to be our burglar and you are meant to find Your One and only you can make it happen. If you have faith, then it will be so. If you believe it to be impossible, then this love will remain unknown to you forever."

"What should I do?" Bella detested the quiver of fear that crept into her voice. She couldn't simply abandon her home and her business to live out the fantasy of a great lifetime adventure and to chase the whims of an empty heart. Common sense dictated that she stay in the Shire, send the Dwarves on their way and wish them well. She wasn't a Hobbit to believe in foolish tales of one true love and great destinies. Yet, her heart had yearned for so long form something so long that she couldn't name and that night, he had shown literally upon her doorstep. His name was Thorin.

"I think you already know, but, in the end it is up to you," Oin's stubby fingers picked up each of the runes in turn and dropped them back into the back. Finally, the surrealistic and awkward Sakh ended, letting reality back into the room. Bella found her racing pulse starting to slow and air returning to her lungs. She opened up a nearby window to clear the heavy linger scent of incense to clear the smial. “Balin left the contract on the table for you to sign if you so choose. Take the night to sleep on it, my dear, the answers will come to you by morning.

"Oin, I must admit that tonight's reading wasn't what I was expecting. It was very powerful.” Bella shook her head in amazement. "You were spot on about so many things.

"The runes never lie, lass.” Oin agreed. "How many tears have stained your pillow for something you thought that you might never have?"

"Too many," Bella rasped. 

"Such has also happened to many Dwarves. Less than a third of all babes born to us are female and only a few of our young men marry. We are a dying race and too many of us are blinded with our yearning for the craft and with Gold Sickness. You have an opportunity that few know. Don't let it pass you by. Come on our quest with us, Bella, and find your destiny.”

“I'll sleep on it and let you know in the morning,” she promised as a yawn escaped her. “I am truly beat.”

“Sakhs do that,” Oin chuckled. “So, is he handsome, Your One?”

“I think he is,” Bella hedged.

“Goodnight, lass.”

“Good night, Oin.”

“Pleasant dreams,” he winked. “I hope they come to you."

**********

Nothing left her mind allowing Bella any peace or any sleep, so she decided to have a long talk with her favorite wizard. After fainting earlier in the night from the graphic depictions of dragons, complements of Bofur, Bella had experienced more excitement and adventure that her poor body could handle. She decided to have have another talk with the Gray Wizard to get his view on things and he told her that she had become more interested in doilies and pottery than living her life.

Bella sat in the darkness in a chair near her bed, contentedly puffing on her pipe as her mind drifted in and out of contemplation, between the world of the waking and of dreams, she heard low voices singing in the living room. The outpouring of emotion and the history laden in the words of the song stirred her heart in ways it had never before felt. She felt hot tears prick the back of her closed eyelids as she lie still, listening to the rumbling quiet melody that filled her home.

 

Far over the misty mountains cold.  
To dungeons deep, and caverns old.  
We must away,'ere break of day.  
To find our long forgotten gold.  
The pines were roaring on the height.  
The winds were moaning in the night.  
The fire was red, it flaming spread.  
The trees like torches blazed with light. 

*******************

Bella was thankful for my cozy little home, her warm hearth and the simple things such a stocked pantry and a good pinch of pipe-weed, but the soulful rumbling coming from the Dwarves told her how their hearts broke as they sang each word. Every note they sang swelled with the longing to return to a home which was no longer theirs that had been taken from them. As she listened in the darkness, her inner Took no longer screamed, but whispered. Her Baggins mind told her to count her blessings of being not an unfortunate soul such as those vagabond Dwarves. She had been blessed with good fortune and they had lost theirs.  
She had never lost a home, but her beloved parents and no amount of longing would bring them to the living. Belladonna Baggins had never known the love of a husband or children, nor was likely to as long as she remained in the Shire. She had made peace with losing what she thought was never meant to be hers. Yet, these Dwarves had a chance to return to their Lonely Mountain and regain their lost home and her heart pined for a Prince she had only met that night. Oin had been right: it was much more than a mere adventure; it was a calling. Within the span of five minutes, thirteen Dwarves changed my changed her mind with a song.  
One Dwarf especially, the one with the deepest voice and the most broken heart of all, inspired Bella's change of heart. Thorin Oakenshield's sadness and passion spoke to her Tookish side, Baggins mind and her empty heart. Perhaps, a dash of Hobbit luck might give a little help to the motley lot to reclaim their lost mountain. In the end, Bella knew that she would get a tale or two to tell and several good memories to carry me through the years ahead if nothing else came of it. She refused to live her life with regret. Better to have lived and lost, than to have never to have lived or loved at all. At the very least, she would get out of the Shire for awhile and go on an adventure!  
Books and maps be damned, she thought. If I can be of service, then service I shall be. First thing tomorrow morning, she promised myself, she would sign the contract and be off with them. She made a mental note to pack extra handkerchiefs.  
As Bella drifted off to sleep, she thought she hear Thorin's voice in the other room. "I have waited a thousand nights for a love like this. I can stand to wait a little longer.”

To Be Continued.....

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Per a couple of Khuzdul dictionaries, I found root words which are the basis for two that I've created here for the purpose of the story. Sakh means "to see" and Zigir means "to do magic." For this story, Sakh also means to experience a vision and a Sakhzigir is a Dwarvin Mystic or practitioner.
> 
> This tale is a companion piece that falls between stories 3 and 4 of the Series: How To Do Things To A Hobbit Do Things In Five Minutes Or Less. I found it fascinating that there is much more to each of these Dwarves that what the movie displays. I am thankful for the writings of Christopher Tolkien and the movie companions that tell so much more of the back-story of these characters. Read fiercely and well. If you're enjoying this series, please write a few words to let me know. It's much appreciated.


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